The Remarkable Regimen of the Sprat Family

The Sprats were four in number,Including twins in kilts:All day Jack carted lumber,All day his wife made quilts.Thus heartlessly neglectedTwelve hours in twenty-four,As might have been expected,The twins sat on the floor:And all the buttons, I should state,They chanced to find, they promptly ate.This was not meat, but still it’s trueWe did the same when we were two.

The wife (whose name was Julia)Maintained an ample board,But one thing was peculiar,Lean meat she quite abhorred.Here also should be statedAnother fact: ’tis thatHer spouse abominatedThe very taste of fat.This contrast curious of tastePrecluded any thought of waste,For all they left of any mealNo self-respecting dog would steal.

No generous table d’hôte meal,No dainties packed in tins,But only bowls of oatmealThey gave the wretched twins;And yet like princes pamperedHad lived those babes accursed,Could they have fed unhampered:—I have not told the worst!Since nothing from the dining-roomWas left to feed the cook and groom,It seems that these domestics cruelWere led to steal the children’s gruel!

The twins, all hopes resigning,And wounded to the core,Confined themselves to diningOn buttons off the floor.No passionate resentmentThe docile babes displayed:Each day in calm contentmentThree hearty meals they made.And daily Jack and Mrs. SpratAte all the lean and all the fat,And every day the groom and cookThe children’s meal contrived to hook.

But when the twins grew older,As twins are apt to do,And, shoulder touching shoulder,Sat Sundays in their pew.They saw no Christian gloryIn parting with a dime,And in the offertoryDropped buttons every time.Said they: “What’s good enough for SpratsIs good enough for heathen brats.”(I most sincerely wish I knewWhat was the heathen’s point of view.)

The moral: Anecdotes aboundOf buttons in collections found.Thus on the wheels of progress go,And heathens reap what Christians sew!